


something he wanted (the show-off remix)

by dustofwarfare



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - D/s, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Facials, Leashes, M/M, Showing Off, Subspace, Voyeurism, Xenophobia, crops, dom!Ardyn, face-slapping, posture collars, sub!Loqi, sub!Ravus, top space, voice restrictions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: He looks lovely like this, all sharp angles and scowls and desperation. Ardyn pats him on the chest. “I have yet to do anything that has not positively impacted your career, and I should think you were smart enough to realize that. As delightful as you look in that outfit, I’m not showing you off out of spite or even for my own pleasure.” Ardyn’s mouth twists. “You must know me better than that.”____In which Ardyn takes Ravus as his submissive to a party full of Niflheim elite.





	something he wanted (the show-off remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/gifts).
  * Inspired by [something you needed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829368) by [marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita). 



> This is a remix of Marmolita's "Something You Needed", which is set in a d/s universe in which people are born natural dominants or submissives, set in a society which does not treat the submissives well. In this story, a dominant makes his submissive fuck another submissive. While there's no implicit non-con and everyone is basically on board, I'm still putting the dub-con tag on for anyone who might be sensitive to consent issues. 
> 
> This remix was inspired by this part in the original story: "Maybe there's another class of parties for Niflheim's elite that she's not invited to. She wonders whether he has Ravus perform in public, or whether it's only in private arrangements, and she wonders who it is that he might have wanted Ravus to fuck. As calculating as he is, she can't imagine the chancellor caring about making Ravus fuck someone's trophy sub. Loqi, perhaps? That seems more like the kind of thing Izunia would find ironically pleasing."
> 
> ....this is that party, and Aranea's right on point about who it is. 
> 
> NOTE: This is not intended to be representative of actual kink, either SSC or RACK. Caligo is terrible and treats Loqi badly, and nothing in this story should be taken as a suggestion or advice.

Ardyn only ever attends parties when he needs to speak to someone outside of official channels, as over the years he’s learned that people are far more willing to give concessions when they’re being sucked or licked by a clever mouth, caught up in the sort of play that makes rational thinking difficult.

The number of compromises he’s cajoled out of Niflheim’s elite when they’re busy fucking their pretty subs is nigh innumerable.

Otherwise, Ardyn finds the parade of flesh and sexual excess a dead bore; when someone has lived as long as he has, one has seen just about everything and tried it at least twice. He never brings Ravus to these sorts of parties, especially those where the majority of attendees are officers in the military. He wants them to see Ravus as an equal as much as they can, given their prejudices for both submissives and foreigners, and parading him about as a pet isn’t going to help that.

But when he receives an invite to a specific gathering of Niflheim’s elite to be held at Caligo Ulldor’s private residence, he reconsiders. There’s been some whispering that Caligo’s pet, Loqi Tummelt, is of a mind to mimic Ravus’s rise in the military and _surpass_ him, and Ardyn wants to put an end to those ambitions as quickly as he can. Which might be best served by making an appearance at the party with Ravus in tow, even though he knows how Ravus will react to the idea.

Which is, honestly, merely another benefit. Ardyn has been traveling a great deal as of late, and Ravus is just on the edge where he’s going to need a good long night of submission to retain his usual sharp mind and focus. What perfect timing.

“Ravus,” he calls, his mind made up. “We’re going out. We have a bit of shopping to do.”

***

Ardyn could, if he wanted, lead Ravus about behind him like a lot of dominants do with their submissives when they are out and about. He doesn’t; he much prefers to have Ravus walk beside him and be grudgingly thankful that he’s not required to take Ardyn’s leash for a simple trip to the store, while at the same time fighting his body’s urge to beg for the leash. To please and disappoint Ravus at once is a delight to Ardyn. It’s the simple things, really.

“Where are we going?” Ravus asks. He’s dressed, as Ardyn instructed, in civilian clothes – not that it makes him any less recognizable, given he’s one of the few men in Niflheim that are as tall as Ardyn himself and has that distinctive platinum hair.

“Shopping,” Ardyn answers, indicating the business district around them. Downtown Gralea is a strange mix of industry and fledgling shops trying to carve out a niche in the highly-regulated commerce of the Empire, with boutiques and restaurants flanked by large industrial complexes that churn out the necessarily supply of weapons required to wage war.

Ardyn spies a noodle shop build adjacent to a factory that produces firearm ammunition for MTs, and has to respect human tenacity when it comes to turning a profit. Some things really never do change.

“Yes,” Ravus says, biting off each word as if he’s having them for lunch, “but for _what_?”

“It’s a surprise,” Ardyn says, enjoying the way Ravus huffs and burrows into his scarf. It’s the beginning of winter but already cold in the Capital, and Ravus has managed to dress himself as if he’s wearing his uniform instead. The collar of his blood-red peacoat is turned up like the one on his favorite coat, and a pristine white scarf is draped around neck and tied like some long out-of-fashion gentleman’s wear. Ravus would look good, Ardyn thinks, in all that stiff, buttoned up nonsense from days long past. He certainly has the personality for it.

The shop Ardyn likes the most is next to one of the many manufacturing plants that produce parts for the Imperial dreadnaughts. It’s cheekily called _Whips and Chains_ in deference to the other, classier shops that sell toys with high-brow names like _Dominant’s Playground_ or _Submissive’s Paradise._ Ravus’s eyes widen a bit as they near the shop entrance.

“I – what precisely do you need _here_?”

Oh, Ravus. Ardyn really is _such_ a tolerant dominant, who else would let him ask questions in that snippy voice? “It’s for _you_ ,” Ardyn says, enjoying, as always, answering a question without actually answering it.

Ravus shoves his hands in his pockets and follows Ardyn into the store. “I wasn’t aware your selection of implements was inadequate.”

Ardyn laughs. “It isn’t. But if you’re _very_ good, I’ll let you pick out a toy for later.”

Ravus glares at him, but Ardyn doesn’t miss the flash of heat in Ravus’s eyes. Especially not since they’re standing by the restraints, which Ardyn knows he particularly enjoys. “That’s unnecessary, thank you.” But he is looking around, and he can’t quite hide the interest in his expression as he sees all the available options that Ardyn does not, in fact, own.

“Chancellor Izunia!” The owner of the establishment, Tal, is a short, curvy blonde just on the other side of fifty. She’s dressed in something like that looks like an equestrian’s outfit, and she’s holding a riding crop in one hand. Her submissive, a young man of twenty or so, is likely behind the register wearing something appropriately scandalous. Ardyn likes this shop because it doesn’t pretend that people don’t enjoy the sight of scantily-clad, attractive young men in collars while they shop.

“Yes, hello, madame,” Ardyn says, bowing. “I’ve come looking for something specific today.”

If Tal recognizes Ravus – which she must, she’s a citizen of the Empire and everyone knows who Ravus is – she’s too professional to mention it. “For him?”

Ardyn nods. “Yes. We’re to attend a party, and I want something for him to wear.”

“A party?” Ravus asks, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of party?”

“I should think that would be obvious, given our current location,” Ardyn drawls, and smiles at the look of panic Ravus can’t quite hide.

“You’ve never – we don’t – why on earth would you bring me to one of _those_?” Ravus asks, looking even paler than usual.

Ardyn rolls his eyes. “There’s no need for you to ask questions, you’ll be a good boy and do as I say. Won’t you?” He puts a hint of command in his voice, though he really shouldn’t have to.

“Ardyn,” Ravus says, obviously struggling not to give in. He does, though it’s only a minute shift of his gaze to the floor and a low, gritted out, “Yes.”

“As I thought,” Ardyn says, then smiles at Tal. “Now, do be so good as to point me in the direction of your clothing section.”

“Through there,” Tal says. “Let me know if you need any help, Chancellor.”

“I shall. Come along,” Ardyn says, heading toward the direction Tal pointed without a backward glance. Ravus, if he knows what’s good for him, will follow.

He does.

***

There are a lot of things to choose from, but there very few options in a size that will accommodate Ravus’s frame. Still, Ardyn finds a few possibilities, examines them with a critical eye, and ignores Ravus’s glowering and muttered commentary. Eventually Ardyn finds a pair of plain black leather pants and a posture collar, with a steel rod covered in leather running down the length of the spine.

Ravus doesn’t _need_ a posture collar – if anything, he’d need one that would make him relax – but Ardyn rather likes the idea of putting him in it. It will force his head up, for one, meaning he won’t be able to hide behind his hair. And it will save him from having to bow to the dolts who fancy themselves all-powerful dominants at the party they’re to attend.

“Try these on for me,” Ardyn says, shoving the bundle at him. “I’ll do up the collar.”

“Do you _know_ how long I’ve spent making the other offices respect me?” Ravus crosses his arms across his chest in clear disobedience. “Showing up in some – some _fetish gear_ is going to undo all the work I’ve done, and –”

Ardyn moves fast, grabbing Ravus by the hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. “The work _you’ve_ done? I wasn’t aware you did that all on your own, Ravus.” His voice is dangerously mild.

“The work _we’ve_ done, then,” Ravus bites out. He’s not giving in, as close to disobeying as he’s ever been. “Ardyn, if I’ve displeased you in some way –”

“I would never parade you around and show you off if you displeased me,” Ardyn interrupts. “I’d simply take you to this party without a stitch of clothing and encourage all in attendance to have a go with you. Which I will do, if you continue to question me when you should not. Now, I think perhaps we’ll put you on voice restrictions until the words you’re saying are the ones I want to hear.”

Ravus looks a bit startled. Ardyn has never put Ravus on voice restrictions before, because Ravus normally doesn’t need the encouragement to stay silent. Like the posture collar, his problem is usually the opposite.  

“Much better.” Ardyn lets go of Ravus’s hair, then pats him on the side of the face a little too hard – as he figured, taking away his ability to speak and the half-slap calms Ravus down enough that he takes the items and disappears into the adjacent changing room without even a glare.

Ardyn finds a riding crop similar to the one Tal had been carrying and he leans against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, idly tapping the edge of the crop against his palm while he waits. The bit of the crop makes a satisfying sound against the leather of his glove. “Sometime today, Ravus. You do not want me to have to come in there, I assure you.”

A few seconds later, the curtain opens and Ravus steps out. His expression is akin to a thundercloud, but Ardyn barely spares his face a glance, too busy taking in the rest of him. The black leather pants are just the right side of too tight, and the high posture collar forces his head up even without it being buckled. Ardyn smiles and walks forward. “My,” he says, with a short laugh. “I don’t know what I enjoy more, the sight of you in that outfit, or the knowledge that you absolutely hate how much you like wearing it.”

He twirls a finger, and with a last lingering glare Ravus turns around as bidden. There’s a metal ring on the end of the rod, and he spends a moment thinking of all the possible things it could be affixed to before he reaches up and buckles the collar into place. It’s tight enough that Ravus will have trouble getting a deep breath, and Ardyn knows very well how much he likes that. Ravus has also piled his hair in a loose top-knot on top of his head to keep it out of the way of the collar, which Ardyn quite likes.

He moves to stand in front of Ravus again, then takes the edge of the crop and lightly draws it down Ravus’s bare chest. He looks very pale against the black of the collar and the pants, and there’s a slight flush on his face moving downward, turning all that pretty skin of his blotchy red.

“How does that outfit make you feel? Your voice restriction is lifted for the moment. Answer me.”

“Humiliated,” Ravus says, in a voice choked and rough. He’s looking somewhere to Ardyn’s right. “I feel _humiliated._ ”

“And do you like it?” He flicks the crop again, this time outlining the clear line of Ravus’s erection pressing against the front of his pants. “Hmm?” He brings the crop up and hits Ravus smartly on the side of the face with it. “Look at me when you speak to me, or I’ll tighten that collar.” A ridiculous threat – a more appropriate one would be _I’ll loosen that collar,_ but Ardyn is pleased enough to play along.

Ravus’s pupils are dilated, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his breathing increases. “No.”

“Try that again,” Ardyn says, almost fondly. “The truth this time.”

“Yes, damn you,” Ravus growls, and he tries not to moan when Ardyn uses the crop on him again, flicking it against one of his exposed nipples. “Ardyn, please,” he says, and it must be quite bad to get that particular word out of him.

“You look as haughty as you always do, never fear.” Ardyn presses the tip of the crop against Ravus’s mouth and waits, watching with interest as Ravus struggles against his own nature and Ardyn’s dominance before he gives in and opens his mouth. Ardyn doesn’t know where the crop has _been_ , so he doesn’t do much but give that sulky mouth of Ravus’s a little tap before pulling it away. “And in that collar, you won’t be able to lower your head to anyone, even if they want you to. Isn’t that clever of me? Don’t you think you owe me an apology for thinking I can’t take care of you, Ravus?”

“I’m sorry,” Ravus says, and Ardyn chuckles at how graceless it sounds.

Before he can tell Ravus to get changed, Tal appears and gives Ravus a professional once-over. “Very nice. I have a pair of boots I think would look wonderful with that. Very military, lots of snaps and buckles.” She nods.  

“I have boots,” Ravus says. “Military ones, at that. They have _plenty_ of buckles.”

Ardyn gives a theatrical sigh. “Back to voice restrictions with you,” he says, giving Ravus a much harder swat with the crop on his ass. The sound against the leather is very satisfying. “I believe I’ll take this delightful crop with me, too. Now, you were saying about the boots….?”

***

Ardyn lifts the voice restriction the second they leave the shop, everything discreetly packaged and tucked into plain bags.

It hardly matters – Ravus doesn’t speak a word to him the entire trip home.

They’re barely through the door when Ardyn deposits their purchases and says, “I think that sulky mouth of yours needs to remind me why I bother with such an ungrateful sub.”

He’s barely finished _speaking_ before Ravus drops to his knees, making a sound halfway between desperation and anger as his fingers fairly fly toward Ardyn’s belt.

Ardyn has a brief thought of putting that collar on Ravus while he does this, but Ravus is very good at what he’s doing and Ardyn doesn’t much feel like denying himself the pleasure of fucking Ravus’s throat long enough to get the thing out of the bag and attached.

Another time, then.

***

“Why exactly are you so intent on taking me to this party?” Ravus asks, a few nights later, as Ardyn finishes doing up the posture collar. “I rather thought it was to your benefit as well that I wasn’t – that the others didn’t see me this way.”

“Ravus, they see you this way regardless of your rank, your insignia, your considerable accomplishments or even my patronage. It is shortsighted and foolish of them, and you and I both know it.” Ardyn examines Ravus when he’s finished. The outfit is rather simple, just the leather pants, the boots that are, admittedly, rather similar to Ravus’s own but with substantially more buckles, and the high black leather posture collar. He’s worn his hair in a much neater topknot, to better show off the back of the collar at Ardyn’s explicit instruction.

He looks lovely like this, all sharp angles and scowls and desperation. Ardyn pats him on the chest. “I have yet to do anything that has not positively impacted your career, and I should think you were smart enough to realize that. As delightful as you look in that outfit, I’m not showing you off out of spite or even for my own pleasure.” Ardyn’s mouth twists. “You must know me better than that.”

“Yes,” Ravus says. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists, both aroused and annoyed at being forced to wear such little clothing out of the house. Ravus’s nature _wants_ this, and Ravus is fighting it as hard as he ever has. It’s a delightful bonus to the evening’s entertainment, as far as Ardyn is concerned. He does so enjoy watching Ravus struggle.

“Then I expect you’ll be a good boy and do as I say without my having to punish you,” Ardyn says. “Such a reminder is, I would expect, beneath you at this point.” Ravus usually only requires discipline when he denies his urges for too long, making him sloppy and fracturing his sense of control.

Ravus drags in a breath and nods, or tries to as much as the collar will allow. “Yes, Ardyn.”

“See? That’s so much easier, isn’t it? Now, come along. We’re fashionably late as it is, any more so and I fear we’ll be downright rude.”

Ravus snorts at the very idea that Ardyn would care about offending Caligo Ulldor, but he doesn’t say anything. Ardyn allows him to choose whatever outwear he wishes, and Ravus opts for the blood-red peacoat and white scarf, the tip of the black collar barely peeking out over the top. There’s a flash of leather pants and boots as he walks. The combination of uptight young officer and slutty submissive is certainly appealing, and Ardyn doubts he’ll be the only one who thinks so when they arrive at the party.

Caligo’s private residence is located in Gralea’s residential district, in the area set aside for the wealthy and privileged, and is decorated in shades of red, gold and white in a rather tacky and sycophantic homage to the Empire. The décor suggests Caligo hired a decorator who argued for a more tasteful approach, and then he overruled her by demanding more things be covered in gold plating.

The attendant who takes their coats is too well-trained to let his glance linger on Ravus, but there are stares and whispers almost immediately when they enter the main area of the house where the people are still gathered, drinking and preparing for their evening’s debauchery. Ravus cannot hide his reaction to all the attention, given he’s all but shirtless and being as fair skinned as he is. And those pants certainly leave little the imagination.

Ardyn lets them all look their fill, then steers Ravus over to a small corner and presses him against the wall. “All you have to do tonight is do exactly what I say. Submit to me like we both know you want to. Show me I haven’t wasted my time with you.”

Ravus gives a shiver, but his voice is even when he answers. “Yes, Ardyn.”

“Good boy. You’re not here to fight what you are, Ravus. Remember that.” Ardyn pulls away and heads for the main living area. “Come along, then. Let’s show you off.”  

***

The party is not crowded, and Ardyn isn’t surprised to note that the majority of those in attendance are male dominants. If Caligo’s scathing remarks about Commodore Highwind are any indication, he tends to view all women – even dominant ones – as something inherently _lesser_. The only women at the party are trussed up in collars and elaborate rope dresses, many kneeling and all with gazes aimed firmly downward.

Ravus is the only submissive with his head held high, though that is, of course, the point of the collar.

Ardyn accepts a drink from a passing wait staff, also a woman, who is carrying the tray clenched between her teeth. Honestly, Caligo does have a bit of a fetish for that, doesn’t he?

As Ardyn scans the crowd, he makes note both of who is there and who isn’t; it’s early enough that people haven’t gone off to play yet, and late enough that likely everyone who’s planning on coming has already arrived. Glauca is not there, which is no surprise. Caligo doesn’t much like foreigners, even when they’re the de facto head of the army and technically his superior. 

There is one person there whose attendance he did not expect. Ardyn makes his way over to where the man is standing and says, as genuinely as he ever says anything, “Verstael. I’m surprised to see you here.”

Verstael shrugs and hunches a bit into his drink. “Scientific curiosity, I suppose you could call it.”

 _Or is that you have a bit of fetish for voyeurism_. Honestly, the only thing Verstael ever seemed interested in were the MT Units. Ardyn had always wondered if Verstael had one he kept at home, and now he wonders if perhaps Verstael has _two_ , and makes them perform for him. The thought nearly makes Ardyn laugh.

Verstael eyes Ravus with calculated disinterest. “I must confess, I often forget that you’re a submissive, Nox Fleuret.”

Ravus makes an admirable effort not to glare at Ardyn. “Yes.”

“It’s an interesting system, this hierarchy. I’ve often been curious if the MTs would manifest it, given they begin life as humans, but so far they seem to have had any dominance bred out of them. All the best, I imagine, given their duties require them to do little more than follow orders.” Verstael sips his drink. “If they manifested dominance, perhaps field leaders could be created to adapt to changing battle variables?”

That’s…vaguely interesting, perhaps, but Ardyn cannot think of why Verstael would wish to have a conversation about inherited dominance traits in MTs at what is essentially a sex party. He’s saved from this conversation by the appearance of Caligo, dressed in a suit that is just a tad too tight for his bulky frame (honestly, are they not paying him enough to afford a bespoke suit?) and leading Loqi about on a – what else? – gold leash.

Loqi is naked, save for a red leather collar with a gold buckle onto which the leash is clipped, and a jeweled cock ring prominently displayed between his legs. He’s wearing a bit of eyeliner, Ardyn suspects, giving him a smoky, smudged sort of look that suits the image of him as a favored, debauched pet.

“Chancellor,” Caligo says, his smile tight as he bows. “What a surprise to have you here this evening.” He gives Ravus a long, lingering glance. “And you brought a toy. What a treat for all of us.”

Ardyn returns the bow politely. “I found myself free this evening and thought I’d stop by.”

“And we’re honored,” Caligo says. Next to him, Loqi is kneeling with his hands on his palms and his head bowed, the perfect picture of submission.

Next to Ardyn, Ravus stands ramrod straight in his posture collar. It delights Ardyn to no end, because he can tell Caligo doesn’t like that Ravus, who stands several inches taller than Caligo, isn’t physically allowed to bow his head in the deference he thinks himself due.  

“Training your submissive for posture, are you?” Caligo says, licking his lips. “I never had very good luck with that. Or have you collared him, then?” He’s stroking Loqi’s hair, who tilts his head back and shows his throat – but probably so that he can slit his eyes open and get a look at Ravus. He’s not fooling Ardyn, that’s for sure.

“Oh, is that what it is?” Ardyn says, one hand pressed to his chest and eyes wide in a mimicry of surprise. “How silly of me not to have known.”

Next to them, Verstael Besithia doesn’t bother hiding a snort. “What’d you think that steel metal rod was for, then, Chancellor?”

Ardyn smiles as innocently as he can, which admittedly isn’t much. “Why, I’m not sure. A decoration, perhaps?” He reaches out and runs his hand up and down Ravus’s back, along the lean line of the steel rod. “I confess I simply liked the look of it. Perhaps you should invest in one, Caligo. Your sub’s head looks as if it might just loll right off, there.”

Loqi hurriedly bows his head submissively again, but Caligo stops stroking his hair.

“Well, enjoy yourselves at the party,” Caligo says, all forced jovialness that is fooling no one. “If you wish for use of a private room, do ask and you’ll be given first choice.”

Excellent. “Oh, I shall.”

Caligo gives a stiff nod and moves off, forcing Loqi to scramble to his feet to keep up with him.

“Caligo must have rented that lad,” Verstael says, not quietly enough to keep his voice from carrying easily. “Wonder how much he cost.”

Ravus makes a choked sort of noise that he hides into a discreet cough. It might be one of the few times Ardyn has ever heard him laugh.

***

They spent a little more time socializing, which mostly means Ardyn turns on the charm and finds himself surrounded by a group of dominants that would, if he even vaguely hinted he wanted them to, strip naked and present themselves for him to fuck.

The dominance hierarchy is biological, but it is far more nuanced than many of Niflheim’s elite – especially the military – want to admit. Ardyn’s a natural dominant (he was to have been a king, after all) but he’s sure the Scourge and his immortal nature must lend him something extra, though it could simply be the experience gleaned from the long years of his cursed existence. Regardless of how dominant Caligo thinks himself to be, Ardyn could have Caligo licking his boots if he wanted.

He doesn’t – he only ever lets Ravus do that, when Ravus has been particularly good – but he _could_ , and he thinks Caligo must know it.

Ravus surprises him by murmuring, “Is this what you’re like in meetings? No wonder you were elected Chancellor. It’s like watching a hungry snake making friends with a bevy of rather dim mice.”

“Now, Ravus. Is that any way to speak of Niflheim’s elite?” Ardyn murmurs back, into his raised drink.

“I suppose not,” Ravus says, but there’s a little pleased smirk playing about his mouth that Ardyn rather likes. “But that does not change the truth of it.”

Even before his life was counted in measurable goals to the eventual outcome of his long-awaited vengeance, Ardyn always did prefer submissives with a bit more challenge than merely rolling over and showing their throats. Why anyone would want a stupid, mindless pet who couldn’t engage in the simplest of conversations is beyond him.

“I’m a very good politician for a reason, Ravus.” He puts a hand on Ravus’s back, fingers tracing lightly up the steel rod.

Ravus sways toward him, for once not trying to fight the urge to give in to his nature. It’s going to be hard, here – Ravus might want these people to view him as an equal, but his body wants something else entirely.

“Go ahead,” Ardyn says in a quiet voice, fingers tracing over the curve of Ravus’s impossibly sharp cheekbone. “Kneel for me. They all would, if I wanted.”

Ravus inhales, his eyes hazy with want and need written so plainly on his face. He sinks down at Ardyn’s side, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders and his breathing becoming less shallow.

The posture collar makes him kneel with perfect form, and his head remains almost defiantly tilted up even though Ardyn knows Ravus would lower it for him, if he could. It’s very satisfying, and he takes a moment to simply enjoy the submission he’s earned before he says, “Now, show me you’re in the right frame of mind to enjoy the real reason I brought you here, tonight, and we’ll get on with it.”

He traces his thumb over Ravus’s lower lip, and Ravus hesitates only for a second or two before opening his mouth and letting Ardyn press his thumb against his tongue. He even sucks on it, understated but practically showy for Ravus.

“That’s it.” Ardyn hooks his thumb and tugs. “Up you go,” he says, and Ravus rises gracefully to his feet. He pulls his thumb free and wipes it slowly on Ravus’s cheek.  

Ardyn sets his glass down on a passing tray and goes to find Caligo.

***

“Ah, Caligo.” Ardyn deliberately interrupts him mid-conversation, knowing how it must gall Caligo to cede even the slightest bit of dominance at his own party, in his own home. “I thought I might take you up on that offer for a private room.”

“Ah, yes, Chancellor. Of course,” Caligo smarms at him, reaching into his pocket. “You may use the second room on the right. My personal rooms, of course.”

Wonderful, so probably every bit as tacky as the rest of the uninspired décor he’s been subjected to thus far. Ah, well. “Lovely, thank you. And I was also hoping you might do me the honor of allowing me an hour or two with your pet.”

Ardyn doesn’t bother to modulate his voice, so everyone in the room can hear the request. A hush goes through those who haven’t yet made their way to play, either in one of the private rooms or down the stairs, from where sounds of leather-on-skin and moans are making their way up with increasing volume and regularity.

Caligo can’t refuse, not without making some sort of statement Ardyn knows very well he won’t want to make. His expression is decidedly unfriendly as he bows. “Of course. You honor me by the request.” He doesn’t even need to ask which one, merely hands the lead of Loqi’s leash to Ardyn as if presenting him the keys to some mythical castle.

Ardyn takes the lead, but he doesn’t slip it around his wrist – he gives it to Ravus instead, and enjoys every moment of Caligo’s unsuccessful attempt to hide his dismay at the sight. Next to him, Ravus is quiet and still as a stone. “You needn’t worry, I’m hardly the sort to misuse another’s toy,” he says, clapping Caligo on the shoulder. “But if there’s something you’d prefer I not engage in, then do let me know, won’t you?”

Caligo smiles grimly. “He can handle whatever you want to dish out, Chancellor, I assure you.” The look he’s giving Loqi says clearly _you will handle whatever the Chancellor dishes out._

The Chancellor does not plan on dishing out anything but a recipe.  

“Excellent, thank you,” Ardyn says, all poisoned charm. “Second door on the right, you say? Your hospitality does you credit, Caligo.” With another mocking smile, Ardyn heads toward the bedrooms. Ravus follows, and Loqi, leashed and unable to do anything else, does too.  

***

Ravus is clearly fighting the headspace Ardyn so effectively put him in, and he hisses, “What are you intending?” as Ardyn unlocks the door to Caligo’s bedroom. It’s not as garish as the rest of the house, save the bedspread, which features an absurdly large Imperial crest that could serve double as a mast on a ship if necessary.

Ardyn vows then and there to get that thing as messy as possible. That shouldn’t be too hard. Ravus can press Loqi’s face into it and Loqi’s eye makeup can leave a nice smear.

Ardyn taps Ravus’s mouth with the crop, hard enough to get a slight noise from his stoic submissive. “You shall see. Now, then.” He turns his expression to Loqi, who is admittedly a pretty thing, naked and leashed and collared. His fine features are pure Niflheim, as if he’d been carefully cultivated from centuries of selective breeding. Ardyn unclips the leash and Ravus hands over the lead, and Ardyn tosses it carelessly on the floor. “You have no objection, I’m sure, to spending a bit of time with Ravus and myself?”

“No, Your Excellency,” Loqi says, but there’s a clear, calculating light in his eyes as he glances from Ardyn to Ravus. He kneels, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s not as tall as Ravus but he’s still a soldier, and his physique is lean and toned.

Loqi is a submissive but he isn’t stupid; he has to know this is something he should at least make every effort to pretend to enjoy, even if what Ardyn intends is to whack him with that crop until the poor boy bleeds all over that heinous comforter.  Not only will it reflect poorly on Caligo if he doesn’t, but if Loqi’s talk about his ambitions are true, he has every reason to want to please the Imperial Chancellor.

Loqi does glance up at Ravus, likely uncertain why Ravus is still standing and not already on his knees. Ravus is just sort of staring at Ardyn as he tries to work out what’s expected and what’s to come.

“Do you wish us to take turns pleasing you?” Loqi asks. He glances up through his lashes at Ardyn, in a practiced move that probably works on Caligo but does nothing at all for Ardyn.

“How _forward_ of you to suggest it,” Ardyn purrs, a little meanly, and watches as Ravus doesn’t even bother to hide his slight smile. Loqi looks like Ardyn’s slapped him, which is the point, and _that_ is a far more pleasing expression than the come-hither fuck-me look from earlier.

He reaches out and pats Loqi on the head. “I’m not Caligo, pet. If I want my submissives to do something, I’ll tell them.” The implication is, of course, that Loqi is already failing.

Loqi blinks; he’s clearly trying to figure out what approach to take, here. “I’m sorry, sir.” Loqi lowers his eyes and stares down at the floor. His voice is contrite, and Ardyn doesn’t doubt that the apology is sincere.  

“No need for that,” Ardyn says, and pats him on the head in a way he would never do to Ravus. “As it just so happens, what I want is to watch.” Loqi doesn’t try to rub against his hand like a cat, as Ardyn had seen him do to Caligo, for which Ardyn is thankful.  

“Ardyn,” Ravus growls.

Ardyn ignores him, a message all its own about how he expects Ravus to behave. “Stand up, then, Loqi. There’s no need to stay down there on the floor, when the bed will make a far better stage for our little play.”

Loqi stands with the same easy grace as Ravus. He isn’t shy about Ardyn’s scrutiny, in fact, he seems to enjoy it as Ardyn looks his fill. Ardyn has no interest in bedding Loqi, as his instincts have already told him they’re not going to be all that compatible, and Ardyn has learned the hard way what happens what he doesn’t listen to his instincts.

Ardyn uses the crop, stroking lightly at Loqi’s cheek and over his jaw, then down the curve of his throat and his chest. Loqi makes a little noise of pleasure.

Next to him, decidedly unimpressed, Ravus rolls his eyes up to the ceiling.

Ardyn holds back a laugh and drags the tip of the crop down lower. “You must be proud of how well you’ve done for yourself,” Ardyn says, letting that bit of a bite back into his words. “But I notice you’re not collared.” He traces across Loqi’s throat, from one side to the next, mimicking the same gesture he’d use if he were intending something far more sinister than a caress.

“N-no, sir,” Loqi says, and no doubt he’s thinking about Ardyn’s reputation, told through stories like _he’ll take everyone out for drinks and pick up the tab, good man, that Chancellor,_ to _I once saw him kill a jealous lover at a council meeting with a knife he pulled out of his boot._ (It was, as point of fact, a political rival and a dagger from his coat. In Ardyn’s defense, the man _had_ slipped poison in his coffee, which was arguably an executable offense. Especially during a meeting.)

“I’m not collared, no, sir.” The way Loqi says it is almost sly, as if reminding Ardyn that he’s available.  

“For the best, perhaps,” Ardyn continues, tapping Loqi on the nose with the crop. “You wouldn’t want to limit yourself, would you?”

Loqi clearly doesn’t want to contradict Ardyn, nor does he want to seem like he’s angling for a master ranked higher than Caligo. “It isn’t my decision, sir. I do as I’m told.” It really is the only right answer, and it isn’t as if Ardyn expected Loqi to start blabbing about his ambitions in the Imperial army.

“A pretty answer,” Ardyn says, amused to see Ravus once again cast his eyes up in disdain. “Very practiced. But understandable.” He can almost taste Loqi’s desperation to please, and the only reason he likes it at all is because it’s so delightfully _transparent_.  “Now, now. I didn’t ask to bring you here so that we could talk! Ravus, I’m sure you have divined what it is I want?”

Ravus gives a short nod. “Yes.” He turns toward Loqi. “You understand, don’t you, what he wants us to do?”

“I – yes,” Loqi says, and the look he gives Ravus is nowhere near as subservient, but is calculating and very close to a smirk. “Your master wants to watch you fuck me.” He’s clearly delighting in reminding Ravus that regardless of the collar keeping his chin up, Ravus is still a submissive.

“It would seem so,” Ravus says. He sounds about as enthused by the prospect as he would pledging allegiance to the King of Lucis, but Ardyn can tell that Ravus isn’t entirely opposed to the idea. The outline of his cock is obvious against the leather of his pants, and Ravus _is_ a submissive who likes to be told what to do and how to please.

“That’s fine with me,” Loqi says, voice all low and with a practiced purr. “I’m sure we can put on a good show.”

Ravus glances over at Ardyn. “Well? How do you want me to do this?”

Before Ardyn can answer, Loqi says, “You’re allowed to talk to your master that way?”

If Ravus has ever _once_ referred to Ardyn as “his master”, Ardyn’s never heard it.

“Ravus’s behavior is of no concern to you,” Ardyn says, a bit of command in his voice. “And Ravus, would you believe, I’d like to see you _enjoy_ yourself. So. Entertain me, and sometime this evening would be preferable. I’m a busy man.”

Ravus makes a face, but Loqi must take Ardyn’s words as a directive because he’s the one who moves first, pressing up wantonly against Ravus and stroking his fingers down Ravus’ chest. They make a pretty sight; Ravus, tall and angular, all sharp contrast in his severe black leather and his fair skin and hair, and Loqi, golden-skinned and slighter in form, seeming like he really doesn’t mind the situation in which he’s found himself.

“You’re awfully eager for someone who I am certain doesn’t like me,” Ravus says, with his usual ill-timed tactlessness.

Loqi rubs against him sinuously. “I like you right _now_ ,” he says flirtatiously. “And I imagine you’re at least good enough to know what you’re doing, or the Chancellor wouldn’t have kept you around this long. Besides.” His smile is sharp and mean as a blade. “You’re very… _exotic_.”

Ravus smiles the smile right back. “And you’re very… _common_.”

“Boys,” Ardyn interrupts, laughing despite himself. “I get enough bickering in council meetings. Do try and tone done the hostilities, wouldn’t you? Ravus, come here and let me take that collar off you. I think it might hamper the evening’s entertainment if you can’t bend your head.”

Ravus crosses the room at once and kneels with his back to Ardyn, so he can unbuckle and remove the collar. “There you are.” He leans in and says, in a low voice, “be a good boy for me.” Then he straightens, takes Ravus by the hair and yanks his head back in the way he knows Ravus likes and says, louder, “make him writhe for me, Ravus. Make him beg for your cock. And make certain I know you’re enjoying yourself, so I don’t think my generosity in letting you have him goes unappreciated.”

“Yes, Ardyn,” Ravus says, pupils dilated, mouth parted as he breathes through the pull on his hair.

Loqi watches, his own eyes bright with need. There’s a slight hint of jealousy in his expression is makes Ardyn smile to see it.

Ravus gets to his feet and stalks over toward Loqi like a coeurl hunting prey. He unceremoniously pushes Loqi on the large bed, then climbs on top of him. He kisses Loqi, who seems to have no problem kissing back and splaying himself out beneath Ravus with eagerness.

It takes about four seconds for Ravus to pull back and scowl down at the man spread out beneath him.  “Are those noises genuine, or are you just making them because you think I want to hear them?”

“I don’t think he’s making them for you,” Ardyn says, amused. “Are you, Loqi?”

“He wants us to like it,” Loqi says, a bit huffily. “Did you not hear him say that? _I_ did.”   

Ravus shifts, and Ardyn can see him reach down to grab Loqi’s cock. “You’re not hard.”

“I’m wearing a _cock ring_ ,” Loqi says, with an aggrieved sigh. “That’s the point of the thing.”

Which Ravus should know, even if Ardyn never uses one on him – he likes to force Ravus’s arousal, not curtail it. “Take it off him,” Ardyn instructs, idly rubbing a hand over his own cock through his pants. “And get him hard for you.”

Ravus shifts back on his heels, and Ardyn watches him work the cock ring off with patient, nimble fingers. Loqi writhes about, likely overdoing it for Ardyn’s benefit…whereas Ardyn is mostly just pleased that Ravus is still wearing his boots and messing up that hideous comforter.

Ravus tosses the thing aside and turns back to Loqi.

“Can I touch him?” Loqi asks, turning his head to look at Ardyn.

Ardyn smiles wickedly. “Ask him,” he says, knowing how annoyed Loqi will be to have to ask another sub for permission.  

“Can I touch you?” Loqi asks, staring up at Ravus.

“You already have,” Ravus says, then sighs. “Yes.”

“Not where I _want_ to,” Loqi says, and slips his hand down to rub at Ravus’s cock. “My,” he says, his full mouth easing into a smirk. “ _You’re_ certainly not wearing a cock ring. I’m so _flattered,_ Ravus.”

Ravus just stares impassively down at him and says nothing. But his hips move, pushing himself against Loqi’s stroking hand. He’s breathing hard, and it’s clear he likes _something_ about this – either the simple physical pleasure (though it is _Ravus_ ), or doing what Ardyn wants, or something else entirely that he keeps as closely guarded as he does everything else.

“Loqi has a pretty mouth, doesn’t he, Ravus?” Ardyn says. “Let’s see how it looks wrapped around your cock.”

Ravus sucks in a breath and Loqi smiles up at him, coquettish in a way that should probably look ridiculous but somehow doesn’t. “May I?”

Ravus nods. “Yes.”

Ardyn hadn’t seen Ravus get dressed, but he’s not surprised that the pants were too tight for Ravus to wear underwear. “Lay on your back,” Ardyn says, and Ravus moves to do as he’s told, sprawling back on the bed with his legs spread as much as he’s able in the tight leather.

Loqi puts on a decent show about it, with what appears to be a lot of licking and teasing before he finally sucks Ravus’s cock into his mouth. Ravus seems a bit annoyed with the teasing, but he slides a hand into Loqi’s hair and his head goes back, allowing the slightest of moans as Loqi pleasures him.

Ardyn palms himself harder through his pants. “That’s much better than bickering, isn’t it?”

It’s evident after a few minutes that Loqi is trying to get Ravus to use his mouth and fuck his throat, and Ravus isn’t doing it. Ardyn’s not entirely surprised – despite being born and bred to the sword, Ravus isn’t inherently a violent man. And he _is_ a submissive, far more likely to want to have his throat fucked than do it to someone else.

But Ardyn wants him to do it to someone else, so he’s going to make sure Ravus does it. “He likes it like you do,” Ardyn says, a subtle reminder. “So give it to him like I do it to you.”

“I –” Ravus is clearly struggling, against his body’s demands and Ardyn’s suggestion, and likely some reminder of what Loqi’s life must be like with Caligo – even if, as Ardyn suspects, Loqi is more than just a bit of a masochist.  

“Remember this is for my pleasure, Ravus,” Ardyn chides, gently, but enough command in his tone that Ravus will be compelled to obey. “And I’ve told you what I want. Now do it for me.”

Ravus grabs Loqi’s hair with two hands and his hips thrust up. Loqi, the little showman, chokes like Ravus just shoved the entirety of his sword down his throat but the way Ravus moans, louder and longer than before, must mean that he’s good at it.

“That’s much better,” Ardyn praises, lazily undoing his belt. “We wouldn’t want Loqi thinking that you couldn’t fuck a man’s throat when he’s practically begging you to do it. Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Ravus bites out, hips lifting off the bed. He looks disheveled and aroused, all flushed and tense, his long legs looking even longer in the leather of his pants and with the boots. “I’m – close.”

Of course he is. This entire evening has pushed every submissive button Ravus _has_ , and it seems Loqi is at least capable of giving an enthusiastic blowjob. He’s even rutting against the bed, though it’s anyone’s guess if that’s a calculated move to keep himself hard or not. He does seem to be enjoying himself, body lax as Ravus fucks his throat, hands sliding up and down Ravus’s leather-covered thighs.

“You certainly are better trained than to come before I’ve given you permission.” Ardyn takes his cock out and sighs as he strokes it. This entire thing is for something more than just his own pleasure, but there’s no point in denying himself.

Ravus shoves Loqi’s shoulder and bites out, “Stop,” and Loqi does, sits up and presses a hand to the back of his mouth. He doesn’t even look over at Ardyn, just stares down at Ravus and really, can Ardyn blame him? Ravus is quite something like this, grasping at the sheets and panting up at the ceiling to get himself under control.

Loqi has a pleased little smirk on his face, likely enjoying the sight of the stoic Ravus Nox Fleuret struggling for control. _Well, we can’t have that, can we?_ “Grab his hair, Ravus, and smack him.”

Ravus looks like he both does and does not want to do that, but he raises up to his knees and grabs Loqi by the hair again. He smacks him, and it’s not hard but Loqi’s head moves with the impact – and he looks momentarily surprised, likely because for all the noise it made Ravus didn’t hit him that hard.

“I can take more,” Loqi says, and the smirk is gone entirely – he’s the one who’s panting for it, now. _Good._ “Caligo wasn’t lying. I like it rough.”

“I’m not interested in hurting him,” Ravus says, and he’s looking at Loqi but clearly speaking to Ardyn.

“I’m not interested in what you want,” Ardyn reminds him, voice soft. “And if I tell you to smack him, I expect you to do it just like I do to _you_ when you’re as badly in need of it as he is. And he does need it. Don’t you, Loqi? Be a good lad and tell Ravus how much you need him to smack you.”

Loqi blinks wide eyes at Ravus and says, “I _need_ it, come on, just do it.” He shifts on his knees, swaying, and his cock is hard between his legs.

There’s no way Ravus hasn’t wanted to smack Loqi a time or two. Ravus draws in a breath, holds Loqi’s head still with one hand, and _backhands_ him. He lets go of Loqi’s head at the same time, so Loqi moves with the impact and falls on his side.

“Fuck, do that again,” Loqi moans, and all right, he really _was_ telling the truth about the masochism. He’s looking at Ravus like he’s never seen him before.

“Oh, but that won’t do,” Ardyn interrupts. “You need to ask for what you want, Loqi. The only one giving orders here is me.”

“P-please tell him to do it again, sir,” Loqi breathes, and it’s honestly the most attractive he’s been this whole time, the pretense having fallen by the wayside and nothing but desperation and _want_ taking its place.

He’s far too easy a submissive for Ardyn to want to bother with, but he’s certainly enjoying this a lot more now that he’s gotten Loqi begging Ravus to smack him. “That’s much better. Ravus, do it again.”

Ravus does, but this time he doesn’t let Loqi fall. Instead, he grabs his hair and tilts his head back, staring hard at him. Loqi’s face is wet; Ravus smacked him so hard his eyes teared up. Ardyn likes that more than anything, and he strokes his hand over the head of his cock and gives a soft moan of his own. “ _Very_ well done, Ravus.”

Ravus kisses Loqi, hard and intense, and Loqi’s hands to go Ravus’s shoulders, fingers visibly digging into the muscles there. They both sink down onto the bed, and Ardyn lets them kiss and rub against each other, enjoying the show they’re giving him while he strokes his cock.

Eventually, he says, “Get him ready to take your cock, Ravus.”

Ravus pulls back, then shoves two fingers into Loqi’s mouth. Loqi sucks them with the same enthusiasm he took Ravus’s cock, tonguing them blatantly as Ravus slides them in and out of Loqi’s mouth. “I’m assuming there’s lubricant. Where is it?”

“You can just fuck me,” Loqi says. “I can take your cock without fingers _or_ lube.”

He sounds so very proud of himself for that, too.  

“No,” Ravus says, brows drawn. “You’ll get my fingers and then you’ll take my cock, and you’re getting both with lube.” He sounds as he must when he orders his troops around on the battlefield, impressive even without the natural dominance to put behind his words. “Now, where is it?”

“I – don’t know,” Loqi says. “We don’t – he never --”

Ravus’s mouth thins. He doesn’t seem surprised, likely recalling his own experiences with Caligo when Tenebrae fell to the Empire, for the short period of time he was Caligo’s instead of Ardyn’s.

Ardyn isn’t interested in Caligo’s former submissive and his new pet discussing their various grievances, so he reaches into his pocket – for show, as what he wants is actually in his Armiger – and a small container of lube flashes into his hand. “Lucky for you, I am always prepared.” He tosses it toward the bed, and Ravus catches it in an excellent display of military-trained reflexes.

Truly a credit to the Imperial Army, Ravus.

Ravus’s eyes narrow as he glances at Ardyn. “The Imperial Chancellor wishes for a show,” he says, a bit of a sneer Ardyn doesn’t much care for in his voice. “Hands and knees, and let’s give him one.”

 _Loqi is not your ally. Despite the abuse you’ve both suffered at Caligo’s hands, he would sell you out in an instant to Caligo – and likely has – for his own benefit. Don’t mistake Caligo’s brutish treatment of submissives as some sort of bond._ Ardyn’s indulgent smile fades. “Watch your tone, Ravus, lest I change my mind about who I wish to see fucking whom.”

Ravus clearly doesn’t like the reprimand. But he also doesn’t miss Loqi’s mean little smile at hearing Ardyn deliver it, which more than anything reminds Ravus who in this room is on his side, and who is not. Ardyn nods and settles back, taking himself in hand again. “Go on.”

Ravus positions himself behind Loqi, who shifts so he’s on his hands and knees and, of course, right in Ardyn’s direct line of sight. Ardyn can’t see exactly what Ravus doing, but he knows the moment Ravus gets his fingers inside Loqi by the way Loqi arches his back, hissing like a cat and giving a choked moan of pleasure. His face is damp with sweat and the smear of tears from Ravus smacking him, the liner of his eye makeup a dark smudge streaked down his face.

In comparison, Ravus, though flushed and breathing hard, is as composed as ever, only a few strands of his platinum hair having escaped his topknot to hang down in his face.

“Ravus has very clever fingers, doesn’t he?” Ardyn says, as Loqi jerks forward, pleasured little sounds falling from his mouth as Ravus fucks him with his fingers. “Well? Loqi, I asked you a question. Do be so good as to answer, and praise my submissive for his efforts. You _do_ seem to be enjoying them.”

“Yes,” Loqi moans, fists clenched in the bedding beneath him. “He – it feels good.”

“Tell him, not me,” Ardyn chides. “And I know it’s distracting, but do try and pay attention when you’re given a command.”

Behind him, Ravus gives the slightest of smirks and shoves his hand forward. Loqi _whines._

He turns and tries his best to look up at Ravus. “That feels – good. It feels good, ah – who knew you could – fuck a man like this –”

“Ardyn, apparently,” Ravus drawls, glancing briefly at Ardyn before focusing on Loqi again. “Do you want my cock? You must. You’re making a mess of the sheets.” He shifts, and Ardyn can see him pressing his leather-covered leg between Loqi’s legs, likely grinding it against Loqi’s balls. “If Ardyn wished it, I could make you come without touching your cock, or getting mine anywhere near you.”

Ardyn smiles. This is a rather intriguing side of Ravus, isn’t it? “Tempting, but not on the menu tonight, I’m afraid. Ask him again, plainly, Ravus. You’re confusing the poor boy.”

“Well?” Ravus asks, breathing hard. “Do you want my cock?”

“I would _hate_ to tell Caligo how uncooperative you’re being,” Ardyn says, leaning forward. “Tell Ravus what you want, Loqi.”

“Your – your cock,” Loqi grunts, eyes opening briefly. He does look thoroughly debauched, with Ravus behind him and taking him so completely apart. “I want your cock.”

Ardyn made it quite clear what he wants, so he stares at Ravus with his brows raised. The command isn’t verbal but it’s there. _I told you to make him beg, Ravus. Don’t make me have to remind you._  

Ravus is fighting saying it, it’s clear. Apparently it’s as difficult to get him to make someone _else_ beg as it is to make Ravus himself do it. “Ravus,” Ardyn threatens, gently. “Now isn’t the time to fight me.”

Ravus pulls his hand free, then grabs Loqi’s hair and yanks his head back. “Beg me for it.”

“Fuck me. Give me your cock. _Please_ , I want it. I _want it._ ” Loqi doesn’t hesitate nearly as long in doing it as Ravus did asking him to, but he’s directing it toward Ardyn, not Ravus.

“Then ask me,” Ravus says, all on his own, which nearly makes up for his early hesitancy. “Not the Chancellor. It’s _my_ cock you're begging for, not his.”

Loqi pushes up to his palms and turns to look over his shoulder. Ardyn can’t see the look he’s giving Ravus, but it gets Ravus smiling in a way that makes Ardyn’s blood heat. He fists his own cock, the tip slick with precome.

“Then give it to me already,” Loqi grunts. “I can feel it, you want it as much as I do.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t try that tactic if I were you,” Ardyn says, his voice only a little breathless. “Ravus is quite gifted at denying himself.”

“Fuck me,” Loqi says, once again looking at Ravus. “Just do it already.”

“Is that how you beg for cock, Loqi? I somehow thought, given what a slut you were for it, you’d do it a lot prettier,” Ardyn says, voice heavy with command.

Loqi gasps something unintelligible, then says, “Ravus, please fuck me with your cock. I want it, want you to make me come, _please,_ give it to me.”  

“That’s much better,” Ardyn praises, then, “give him what he’s begging for, Ravus.”

Ravus shifts into position, and his hands settle on Loqi’s hips as he presses his cock inside. He’s slow with it, and he moans once he’s fully seated. Ardyn can see his muscles trembling from holding back, even from here.

“Does that feel good?” Ardyn asks, his hand moving fast over himself. “Tell me, Ravus. Tell me how it feels to fuck him while I watch.”

“It  -- he’s tight,” Ravus manages. “It’s slick. It feels good.” He sounds as disgruntled as Ardyn figured he would, admitting such a thing.

“Then do it harder. Fuck him like the little cockslut he is, hmm?” Ardyn smiles, but it’s more a baring of teeth as he nears the edge, stroking himself harder, wrist twisting at the upstroke as he nears his climax.

Ravus does as instructed, likely just as aroused by doing something Ardyn tells him as he is by the slick tight heat around his thrusting cock. Loqi makes noises like Ravus is killing him, but he’s certainly enjoying himself, if the way he’s pushing back to meet Ravus’s thrusts is any indication.

“That’s very good, yes, make him take it,” Ardyn breathes, and he lasts two more strokes before he comes, shuddering hard and spilling into his fist. He languishes for a moment in the simple pleasure of his release, listening to the sound of Ravus grunting in effort and Loqi’s panting little moans before he opens his eyes once more.

Ravus is also stroking Loqi’s cock, or at least, Ardyn assumes that’s what he’s doing with the hand that’s disappeared from Loqi’s hip. Ardyn hears Loqi gasp out an attempt at asking permission to come, but he pretends he doesn’t hear and Ravus doesn’t pause, and Loqi comes all over the Niflheim Crest with a crestfallen look as if he’s somehow failed.

How perfect.

“Ardyn,” Ravus gasps, slowing just a bit. “I – may I –” he hates asking at the best of times, but probably more so, now, when Loqi can hear. Even though Loqi doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, struggling to keep himself from falling onto the mess on the bed.

Ardyn thinks about making Ravus wait, but then he waves a hand and says in a voice full of lazy satisfaction, “Yes, you may, but do it all over his face.”  

Ravus doesn’t hesitate, just pulls out and flips Loqi on his back in one smooth motion, then straddles him – he’s still wearing his pants, though they’re shoved down around his thighs – and takes his cock in hand. He strokes himself twice before he goes still, head thrown back and moaning as he comes all over Loqi’s face.

Loqi, in an attempt to redeem himself, sticks his tongue out. How sweet of him to try.

“Well,” Ardyn says, finding a handkerchief in his Armiger and using it to clean himself. “That was quite entertaining. I hope you both enjoyed yourself.” He tucks himself into his pants and does up the buckle of his belt.

“Yes, sir,” Loqi manages, but all his earlier bravado seems to have vanished. He’s still lying on his back, trying to catch his breath.

“Yes, Ardyn,” Ravus says, as expected. He’s resting on his knees, breathing just as hard. His eyes are on Ardyn’s, as if he’s forgotten Loqi is even there.

“Wonderful. I think that about does it for our time together, alas,” Ardyn says, standing up. He snaps his fingers, and Ravus gets off the bed immediately and fixes his pants before coming over to kneel in front of him.  

Ravus is clearly in subspace, his face as relaxed as it ever is, his eyes clear. He reaches back and pulls the strands of his hair away from his neck, so that Ardyn can re-fasten the collar. His body is damp with sweat – he’s going to have a dreadful time getting those pants off, Ardyn thinks with a smirk – and his breathing has evened out into normal, deep breaths. Once the collar is on, he doesn’t move, just stays kneeling and waiting for Ardyn’s instructions.

Ravus hates to submit, but Ardyn does quite like the results when he finally gives in. He runs his fingers back and forth on the small bit of skin exposed on the back of his neck, then looks at Loqi.

Loqi is sitting on the edge of the bed, and when he sees Ardyn turn his attention toward him, he sinks down to his knees as well. He raises an arm, likely intended to wipe the mess off his face, but Ardyn stops him immediately.

“Leave it.”

Loqi lowers his gaze and his head in genuine submission. Ardyn gives Ravus one last caress to the back of his neck, then takes up the crop. He uses the bit to tip Loqi’s face up. “Utter debauchery suits you,” he says, and then, in a tone somewhere between a threat and a command, “you would likely do well to remember that.”

Loqi can’t meet his gaze, but Ardyn waits patiently for the whispered, “Yes, sir,” and knows that Loqi understands.

“Bring me his leash, Ravus.”

Ravus does so, and Ardyn clips it to Loqi’s collar and hands the lead back to Ravus, who slips it onto his wrist.  

Ardyn heads toward the door, which he never bothered to lock because he knew no one would interrupt him no matter _how_ long they were in that room. There are sounds coming from the rooms in the hallway as they pass, moans and the sound of people being hit, the occasional cry of pleasure and, more often than not, pain. Ardyn doesn’t expect to find anyone in the main living area, figuring he’ll have to go downstairs to find Caligo and return his pet.

He’s just about steeled himself to encounter whatever horrors await in Caligo’s dungeon – gold-plated flogging posts and floggers bedazzled with rhinestones, or something equally tacky – but to his surprise, he finds Caligo waiting in the main living room, looking bored out of his skull while the only other occupant, Varstael Besithia, blathers on about MTs and inherited dominance traits.

Ruining Caligo’s evening is a delightful addition to his already wonderful night. Ardyn is so very glad they came.

Caligo’s eyes go wide when he spots them, taking in Loqi’s state and the sight of the lead to his leash once again looped around Ravus’s wrist. He doesn’t look pleased.

“Ravus, return Caligo’s pet and thank him for letting us play with his toys,” Ardyn instructs, voice full of genuine good cheer.

Ravus steps forward and hands over the lead. “Thank you, General,” he says.

Caligo looks as if he’s about to demand Ravus call him _sir_ , then his eyes flicker briefly to Ardyn and away. “I hope he was satisfactory,” he grunts, pulling sharply on the lead and making Loqi stumble forward. He shoves Loqi to his knees.

“Oh, Ravus and I were both completely satisfied, weren’t we, Ravus?” Ardyn can’t quite help himself.

“Yes, Ardyn,” Ravus says, perfectly composed.

“It’s late, so I suppose we’ll be on our way. Thank you again for the invitation, Caligo. I shall have to take you up on the next one.” Ardyn almost laughs at the look that gets him. He is certain that was the last invitation he’ll ever receive to one of Caligo’s parties.

Caligo, clearly at his limit of pretending to like Ardyn, says gruffly, “Yes, of course, Chancellor Izunia.” He doesn’t even bother to say goodbye, just stalks out of the room with Loqi trailing after him, meek and messy.

“Well then,” Ardyn says. “I suppose we’ll have to find where he stashed our coats, won’t we?”

***

Ravus is quiet, both the entire way back and once they’ve returned to Ardyn’s residence in the Keep. Knowing Ravus as well as he does, he assumes the best course of action is to let Ravus have some time to himself so he dismisses him and tells him to take a shower before bed. He fully expects Ravus will sleep in the little room that’s been his since Ardyn first brought him here.

Ardyn rarely sleeps, so instead he settles at his desk and attends to some paperwork. He’s halfway through signing a form to deny a budgetary request of Caligo’s when there’s a knock at his door. He’s surprised to see that it’s Ravus, showered and dressed for bed in plain black sleep pants and a white t-shirt. His hair is still wet and slicked back off his face. “You’re doing paperwork? At this hour?”

“It’s a surefire way to make me sleepy,” Ardyn says, which isn’t exactly a lie. It bores his mind enough to make him, if not doze, zone out for an hour or so and listen indulgently to the Scourge jabbering away. It’s a matter of necessity that he tunes it out during the day, but it seems to like the attention he gives it in the middle of the night, when he can afford to be distracted.

“Was there something you needed?” he asks. It seems as if his assumption that Ravus would want to be alone was incorrect. Perhaps it makes sense. As much as Ravus both craves and hates his need to submit and his affinity for humiliation and showing off, this was an intense experience. Perhaps additional aftercare is required.

“I – yes, I think so,” Ravus says, and then, without asking, kneels next to Ardyn’s desk. “That was rather a lot.” That he admits it so easily shows just how far into headspace he still is.

“Yes. You did well, though.” Ardyn doesn’t give praise easily, but Ravus more than earned it. He draws a hand over Ravus’s head, which is bowed, and settles around the back of his neck so that he can apply the slightest bit of pressure.

“Will you tell me why you wanted that?” Ravus’s voice is even more quiet than usual. “I didn’t think you the type merely to want titillation via a sex show.”

Ardyn snorts at the wording. “No? Haven’t you heard I’m quite _depraved_?”

Ravus glances up, and he’s as close to smiling as Ardyn’s ever seen. “I believe I am quite familiar with your depravity, Ardyn. And with _you,_ and you never do anything without six or seven reasons. Will you tell me what at least one of them was?”

“You think me so nefarious?” Ardyn laughs at Ravus’s raised eyebrows. “All right. I suppose you did well enough to earn a reward. Of course I had a reason. It recently came to my attention that Loqi was talking rather indiscriminately about his plans in the Imperial Army. It seems that your rise to power is one he seeks to replicate, and that he intends to surpass you. I believe if his exact words were, _if there is to be a submissive of a high rank in the Imperial Army, it should be one who claims Niflheim as their homeland, not a foreign-born traitor who rose to prominence on the Chancellor’s cock_.”

Ravus just huffs. “Loqi is by no means a poor soldier, but his leadership skills take after Caligo. He has all of the volume and none of the dominance. Nor is his voice of a similar register. He’s a bit shrieky.”

 “Yes,” Ardyn says, dryly. “I noticed. He mewled like a scalded cat while you fucked him.”

“How does – what you had me do – change any of that? I am still a foreign-born officer. I still owe much to your patronage, and it is no secret I serve as your submissive.”

“Yes, those things are all true. But Loqi will not soon forget being fucked into oblivion by a man he deems his inferior, or how much he liked having you smack him until he cried, or how you came all over his face.”

Ravus flushes a bit, but he inclines his head. “You think that enough to curtail his ambitions? I think I could do that weekly and he would think himself more worthy than I.”

“Is that a request?”

Ravus chokes back what may be a laugh. “Not as such, no. Merely…you seem certain it will work.”

Ardyn shrugs. “Word will get around. When the time comes to fill any vacancies, those responsible for filling them will remember hearing the story, and it will only strengthen your suitability for the position. Do you doubt me? I’m very aware how things work here, you realize.”

“No, I don’t doubt that would play some role in any consideration for a promotion.” Ravus glances up at him again. “I can’t say I liked it, and in fact, I’m quite sure I hate you for making me do it….” 

“But you needed it,” Ardyn finishes for him, and then says gently, “And I wanted it, and as you’ve said, you serve me as my submissive.” He strokes his hand through Ravus’s hair, tugging a bit, before settling back around Ravus’s neck. The weight of it there has always calmed him, even from the very first. “And you _did_ like it. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“But I won’t be doing that again?” He opens his eyes, as if embarrassed to realize he’d closed them.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Ardyn smiles wickedly. “It certainly did…how did you say it? Titillate my depravity?” He laughs. “Don’t worry about that. If I want you to do it again, you will, and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. Now, would you like to sleep in here tonight? At the foot of my bed?” He can always read until Ravus falls asleep, though he doesn’t like to indulge the Scourge with Ravus present. It gives them ideas that are far, far more depraved than making Ravus fuck another submissive while he watches.

“I would, yes.” Ravus hesitates. “There’s one more thing.”

“Full of questions tonight,” Ardyn murmurs, but Ravus isn’t the only one who’s relaxed. Ardyn, too, is feeling the effects of indulging his dominant side, and his mood is as good as it ever is, anymore. “Go on, then. Ask me.”

“When you – at the party. When you said that everyone would kneel, if you wanted them to.” Ravus bites his lip, a gesture that is uncharacteristic in that it makes him look both young and uncertain. “I could sense that you were right. They _would_ have all knelt, if you’d wished it. I thought you might have done that for – for me, to make me comfortable since I needed to submit and you know how I…often resist. Then I remembered who you are and realized there must be some other reason.”

Ardyn squeezes his hand a little tighter, just to hear the catch in Ravus’s breathing as he briefly cuts off his ability to breathe. “You wound me, thinking that I wouldn’t do such a thing to make you comfortable.”

“You like making me _uncomfortable_ too much to do that,” Ravus says, which is not untrue.

“Well, besides the obvious in that I do, generally, enjoy people doing what I want when I want them to…yes, I wanted you to kneel because you needed to, and it mattered not at all to me if you were comfortable doing it or not. That’s the sort of submissive you are, and that is the sort of dominance you need, even if you hate admitting it.”

Ravus lowers his gaze to the floor, inhaling deeply when Ardyn eases up on his grip. “I suppose that’s true.”

“And is that what you really wanted to ask me?” Ardyn tips Ravus’s chin up with two fingers. “Why I made you kneel? We both know _why_ , Ravus.”

“Yes, well. I…you want something,” Ravus says. His light, storm-cloud eyes shrewd as they meet Ardyn’s. He always is the most clear-headed after he submits properly. “You have some goal, some aim, and I am not entirely sure what it is. I confess I thought you might wish for the throne, but Ardyn, if you could make them all kneel for you…I think you’d have it already, and I can’t imagine why aligning yourself with me would help you achieve something you likely could have already done if you’d wanted.”

He _is_ clever, Ravus. Perhaps one day that will be the reason Ardyn ultimately has to get rid of him. A pity. _But you’ve served me well, and if you continue to do so, I’ll make it quick and clean._ The Scourge hums, and Ardyn pushes it back with some effort.

They would all bow for him eventually. Emperor, General, Chosen King…Ardyn might be destined to die, but he would have them all prostrate and ruined at his feet beforehand _._ “Of course I have my own reasons. I thought I made that clear. They’re not important other than to say they run alongside your own, though believe me when I tell you I have no interest in the Imperial throne.”

“Maybe not the Imperial throne, but what about another?” Ravus asks.  

Ardyn is still laying the groundwork for the next part of his plan, but it seems as if Ravus will indeed be the asset he needs when it comes time to propose his plan for Insomnia and Lucis to the Emperor. So soon, now, after all this time….

“This is not the time for such talk,” Ardyn says. “But I assure you, when it is time to have this discussion, we shall. Now, it’s very late, and I find I’m in a mood to reward you. Strip for me and get in bed, and perhaps we’ll try out those new restraints I purchased at the store along with your fetching new outfit.”

Ravus stands up and Ardyn watches him strip, pleased and satisfied with the entirety of the evening and its aftermath. He does so like getting what he wants, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let's all laugh at Ardyn Izunia daring to criticize anyone's decor, shall we?


End file.
